


Tangent

by undyingcactus



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undyingcactus/pseuds/undyingcactus
Summary: Before the Uprising, the Circle was just a group of friends with a common goal. Trained together at the Shadowhunter Academy, the band of misfits eventually known as the Circle learn to question what they're willing to do for what they believe in.Follow along through the 80s as we see the beginnings of the Circle.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Amatis Graymark Herondale/Stephen Herondale, Jocelyn Fairchild/Luke Garroway, Jocelyn Fairchild/Valentine Morgenstern, Luke Garroway & Amatis Graymark Herondale, Luke Garroway & Valentine Morgenstern, Maryse Lightwood/Robert Lightwood
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Amatis Graymark woke up on the first day of her last at the Shadowhunter Academy to the sound of her younger brother Lucian loudly stomping around their kitchen. Amatis groaned and rolled over on to her stomach. Her sandy brown hair cascaded over her face, filtering the bright morning light. Letting out a sigh, Amatis clambered to her feet and made her way down stairs.

“By the Angel, what are you doing up this early?” She grumbled to her brother. Lucian was leaning against the kitchen countertop, pouring boiling water over a French press so quickly that some of it splashed on his hand, burning him. He cursed and shook his hand. 

“Valentine wanted to meet before school. Didn’t say why. You know how he is,” Lucian shrugged, screwing the lid hastily on a thermos full of coffee. Valentine, her brother’s parabatai, was a mystery to everyone, including his own parabatai. 

“Send my regards for me,” She chimed. In addition to being her brother’s parabatai, Valentine was also one of her boyfriend, Stephen Herondale’s, best friends. Amatis made a point to stay in the good graces of his friends. Besides, anyone who had met Valentine could tell he was destined for greatness, and Amatis might want all the connections she could get to that someday.

Lucian nodded and dashed out their front door, his own sandy brown hair still a mess and sticking out at odd angles. She should’ve called after him to fix it, but she was too tired. Amatis slowly fixed herself breakfast and squared away a lunch in her backpack. 

A sharp knock at the door announced Stephen’s presence before he appeared, entering at his discretion. His brilliant gold curls drifted carelessly in the fall breeze.

“Sic semper tyrannis!” Stephen chirped in his English accent born from the streets of his native London. A diligent student of Latin.

“Isn’t that what John Wilkes Booth said right before he shot Abraham Lincoln?” Amatis raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Though she had barely studied American history, Amatis had a remarkably sharp memory. Stephen smiled sheepishly.

“Well, yes, and Brutus to Caesar, but I was thinking more about that horrid Mr Winterwright. Death to tyrants!” The boy wrapped his exceptionally, even for a Shadowhunter, strong arms around his girlfriend’s waist, gently and lovingly. Amatis felt herself melt into them.

“No invite to Valentine’s meeting this morning?” Amatis asked, remembering what her brother had mentioned.

“I was invited, but I told him I wanted to spend this morning with you. Besides, it was only going to be Valentine, Lucian, and me. They can fill me in later,” Stephen assured her, squeezing her arm. Amatis rested her head on his shoulder. 

“Does your mother know you’re here?” Amatis asked, already knowing what the answer was. Imogen Herondale disapproved of almost everything Stephen did. Amatis had yet to meet her boyfriend’s mother for herself, but Stephen described her as ‘suffocating’. Privately, Amatis suspected Imogen was just driven by a desire to protect her son. She had to wonder if she would prefer an overbearing mother over her own absent one.

“I said I was leaving, I didn’t say where I was going. Didn’t give her any time to ask questions,” Stephen responded with a shrug. The usual light and careless tone Stephen spoke with darkened briefly when he talked about his parents.

Amatis reached for the pot of coffee her brother had made before he had left. 

“Coffee?” She asked. Stephen perked up and the promise of caffeine.

“Yes, please, no sugar, just milk.” He requested. Amatis grabbed two identical brown mugs from the drying dish rack and filled them with the hot black liquid. She added milk to Stephen’s as requested, and left her own black. Stephen put his hands out to catch his mug as she slid it gently across the counter.

Stephen wrinkled his nose at her cup. “I don’t know how you can stand to drink that stuff black. That’s life eating pancakes without syrup.”

“I’m a simple girl. I like simple things,” Amatis shrugged. Stephen rolled his violet blue eyes skyward.

“You’re anything but simple, Amatis. You’re like a maze with no answer key.” Her boyfriend said, in a way that was joking but kind. Maybe it was just the steaming coffee, but Amatis felt a warmth rise to her face. Stephen planted a graceful peck on her forehead.

“We better get going…” Amatis said softly, not wanting the quiet moment to end. She reluctantly pulled herself away from Stephen’s embrace and slipped on her backpack. From the closet near her front door she grabbed her short sword and slung it sheathed over her body.

The couple left the Graymarks’ house side by side. The orderly streets of Alicante greeted them, Nephilim commuting on foot everywhere. Amatis had never been out of the country, but she had always imagined the capital of Idris to be the most beautiful place in the world. Stephen, having grown up in the gray, bustling metropolis of London, found it much more quaint than his home city. There was a sense of familiarity in each corner and alley of Alicante, the ancestral home of all Nephilim, that was unshakeable.

Ever the golden boy, Stephen waved and flashed a beaming smile at each face he recognized. They would always respond with a similar level of enthusiasm. They couldn’t help it. Everyone felt the energy that Stephen radiated. Amatis had been initially intimidated by this, but the complete and utter sincerity of Stephen’s character assuaged her of any doubts.

Amatis nodded politely from next to Stephen. She had never been particularly outgoing, but always made the effort to be polite and treat people kindly. 

The open gates of the Academy welcomed the Shadowhunter trainees to their first day of a new school year. Clusters of students chattered in the courtyard, discussing their vacations and adventures, and hopes for the new year. A certain sense of nostalgia panged Amatis in the chest, knowing this would be the last time that could share in those hopes.

Amatis spotted a group centered around Valentine Morgenstern. Her brother and the rest of them listened to whatever Valentine was saying with sparkling eyes and agape mouths. She recognized most of them, including Maryse Trueblood, Robert Lightwood, Michael Wayland, Patrick Penhallow, and more. Closest to Valentine on one side stood her brother, and on the other side, Jocelyn Fairchild. Jocelyn Fairchild had known the Graymarks since before the Academy, and was close with both siblings. Jocelyn caught sight of Amatis and Stephen and broke away from the circle. 

Jocelyn’s dark red curls trailed behind her willowy figure like a flare, her long arms waving at Amatis and her boyfriend. She wrapped the two of them into a big hug.

“Ohhh, I missed you two! I was going out of my mind with boredom out at the country estate,” Jocelyn said with enthusiasm amidst the hug. Stephen patted her affectionately on the back.

“Missed you, too, Joce,” He said. Amatis caught both Valentine and Lucian looking back at them. “I’m gonna go join up with Val and Luke.” 

“How have you been, Amatis?” Jocelyn asked her old friend. Being around Jocelyn never failed to put Amatis at ease.

“I’ve been alright. I’m sorry Luke and I didn’t come visit you. We both missed you, and your parents, a lot.” Amatis told her.

Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, don’t apologize, I completely understand. Next time, I’ll come visit you in the city, okay?” Jocelyn was aware that Amatis had had to take a job to support herself and her brother over the summer. The money the Clave gave them for being orphaned was barely enough to make ends meet, and Amatis wouldn’t technically inherit the Graymark fortune until she turned eighteen.

Amatis nodded appreciatively of her friend. 

“I want you to meet my new friend, she just transferred here,” Jocelyn began, leading Amatis farther away from the group Stephen had left to join, “Her name’s Madeleine, Madeleine Bellefleur.” French, Amatis thought to herself.

The bell sounded, indicating that training would begin in five minutes. Streams of Shadowhunters began pouring into the building. It should have been disorganized chaos, but as was the nature of Nephilim, the trainees moved calmly and with alacrity. 

“Jocelyn,” Valentine called out to her friend. Jocelyn’s eyes widened.

“Y-yes?” Jocelyn stuttered. Amatis grinned. She knew that, like half the girls in their friend group, Jocelyn was crushing on Valentine. Valentine calling out Jocelyn specifically would certainly start up some gossip.

“Care to walk me to class?” Valentine said, with a charming smile written across his face and an outstretched hand in her direction. Amatis thought she saw Maryse Trueblood shoot a jealous look at Jocelyn. 

Jocelyn looked at Amatis and then looked back at Valentine. Amatis nudged her, “Well, go on. You know you want to.” Jocelyn mouthed a silent thank you to Amatis and practically skipped over to Valentine.

“They would be quite the couple.” Stephen had reappeared by Amatis’s side without a noise. She jumped a little bit in surprise, since she had been watching her gleeful friend and not paying attention to her surroundings.

“Indeed. I wonder how Lucian would feel about it.” Amatis pondered out loud. Amatis and Stephen both suspected her brother of having feelings for Jocelyn, but neither of them had said anything, except to each other.

Unlike the rest of Valentine’s band of misfits, Stephen was actually somewhat popular and well-liked. He had told Amatis that this had not been the case back in London. Stephen had been ostracized by many of his peers because of his Herondale name. The Herondales were reputed for having Downworlder blood in their line. Stephen, who hated Downworlders, constantly agonized over this fact. Amatis tried to reassure him that didn’t make him any less of a Shadowhunter, but nothing she said seemed to make a difference. 

Stephen kept this a secret from everyone at the Shadowhunter Academy, afraid of what his peers might think of him. It was this secrecy and feeling of not belonging that had drawn him to Valentine and his group. 

Amatis, with her sharp memory and quick wit, had made an excellent student. She had picked up all the runes from the Gray Book faster than anyone else in her class. Still, her intelligence had earned her scorn from many Shadowhuntes her own age. Amatis was one of the first generation of female Shadowhunters to be trained at the Academy, and many did not appreciate it when a girl showed up her male peers. Amatis learned to keep her mouth shut in class and sit towards the back. It brought her comfort knowing Stephen didn’t disdain her intellect, he admired it. The rest of Valentine’s gang accepted her for how she was too. Amatis never needed to keep her mouth shut around them, as long as she had something to say.

Valentine was the center of gravity, and his friends orbited around him. To them, he was their sun. Amatis stayed in outer orbit, tethered, but she could feel herself being pulled in closer. The problem with getting too close to the sun, Amatis knew, was that you could get burnt.


	2. Chapter Two

“Steph, come over here,” Lucian beckoned Stephen over to the table in the middle of the crowded lunchroom. Training left growing Shadowhunter trainees starving. Stephen could feel the dull ache of hunger setting into his stomach, pulling him towards the table his friends sat at. 

Valentine and Lucian sat across from each other, hunched over their lunches. Stephen sat down next to Valentine, affectionately clapping him on the back before taking his seat.

Valentine had been a best friend of Stephen’s for four years, since Valentine had started at the Academy. Valentine was two grades below Stephen, but his level of maturity compensated for his age. Lucian, Stephen’s girlfriend’s younger brother, was one year junior to Valentine. Stephen had been the one to introduce the two of them, originally thinking Luke’s sweet, gentle nature would click well with Valentine’s charismatic, caring one. Valentine and Lucian were practically inseparable now. Lucian obviously worshipped the ground that Valentine walked on. 

“Where are Rob and Mike?” Stephen asked, noting their absence. Robert Lightwood and Michael Wayland were parabatai in Stephen’s grade, and would be graduating with him soon. They had been Stephen’s closest friends before Valentine and Lucian joined the Academy.

“I remember Michael said he wanted to talk to Robert alone. Didn’t say what about. Probably a parabatai thing.” Valentine said with a shrug. Lucian glanced at Valentine with a shine in his eyes. If Stephen’s guess was correct, and they usually were, Lucian would ask Valentine to become his parabatai soon. 

“I saw Michael inbetween class,” Lucian added, “He was twiddling his thumbs and his face looked really pale, like he was nervous about something. I didn’t have a chance to ask if he was okay before the bell rang.” Stephen’s eyebrows knit together.

“That’s strange, Michael’s so calm most of the time. A bit distant, but calm.” He said. Michael was known to get distracted by his own thoughts. Stephen found it endearing when.

“Maybe he’s nervous that Rob is going to ditch him for Maryse.” Valentine smiled jokingly as he said that. Maryse Trueblood, one of their mutual female friends, was hopelessly oblivious to the extremely obvious crush Robert had on her. He would trail her around after classes until she either went home or made up an excuse. Valentine shook his head, “I just hope she doesn’t break his heart. Rob’s already been through so much as is.” Stephen and Lucian nodded grimly at their friend’s remark. Robert had not taken well to being Marked. He had fallen deeply ill and almost died. His rejection of the Mark branded him a target for the bullies of the Academy. Sometimes even adults would comment on it. Valentine had shown nothing but sympathy and compassion towards Robert. Stephen used to smooth talk down bullies from ganging up on Robert before Valentine had been around. But Stephen still didn’t quite have the gift of words that Valentine had. Valentine could convince you you were a vampire with feathers for hair if wanted to.

“As long as you’re around, I’m not sure what shot Rob has,” Stephen said. Maryse kept her bright eyes glued on Valentine every time he entered a room. 

“I have no intention of pursuing Maryse, ever.” Valentine said firmly but not unkindly. Lucian pushed around his food on his plate with a fork, paying too close of attention to it.

“Who… who do you have intentions of pursuing?” Lucian asked with a slight stutter to his sentence. Stephen himself had wondered this question. Of all his friends, Stephen alone had a consistent, steady relationship; with his girlfriend, Amatis. Valentine tilted his head, looking almost cautious.

“I’ve taken an… interest in Jocelyn. Fairchild.” Valentine said his words slowly and with strong diction. Lucian coughed. 

“Sorry, choking on my rice a little.” Lucian said. Valentine patted his back. Stephen felt a flash of sympathy for Lucian. The boy was madly in love with Jocelyn. Amatis and Stephen often discussed it.

“I think she likes you, too.” Stephen added. He had seen the way Jocelyn clung to Valentine’s side, taking any chance she could get to be close to him.

“I hope so,” Valentine said, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “She’s so… strong, you know. Like she’d burn the world down for what she believed in, or who she loved.” Stephen had to agree. Jocelyn possessed an obvious inner strength. 

“Yeah, yeah, she would.” Lucian commented softly. Stephen knew Lucian and Amatis were both people Jocelyn loved; the Graymarks and the Fairchilds were as close as family. He had come to know Jocelyn fairly well through Amatis.

*********

“Amatis! Over here!” Jocelyn Fairchild waved down her childhood friend. Jocelyn was sitting at a table with a girl that looked between their ages, with a striking angular face. The girl had hair the color of moonlight, a shimmering pale silver. Amatis sat next to Jocelyn.

Jocelyn waved at the girl next to her. “This is my friend I was talking about, Madeleine Bellefleur. She’s new.” Amatis stuck her hand out towards the girl. Their hands locked and shook.  
“Amatis. Amatis Graymark. My brother and I grew up with Jocelyn, so we’re family friends.” Amatis explained to Madeleine. 

“I’ll introduce you to Lucian, her brother, later.” Jocelyn chimed. 

“Bellefleur. So, you must be French, then?” Amatis inquired. The three girls had begun digging into their meals, passing a pitcher of water around.

Madeleine nodded, her silver locks moving like a waterfall. “Yeah, my father is from Paris, and my mother is from Idris. We moved back to Idris so I could start school at the Academy.”

“Paris? That sounds so dreamy…” Jocelyn rested her chin on a propped up hand, her elbow balanced on the table.

“City of love.” Madeleine said. 

“Did you leave anyone… special behind?” Jocelyn asked, her face spoke of curiosity. 

“No, nothing so interesting as that,” Madeleine said, “What about you two?”

“You probably haven’t met him yet, but I’m dating Stephen Herondale.” Amatis offered to the conversation. Stephen was probably somewhere in the lunchroom with his friends.

“Hmm… Herondale sounds familiar,” Madeleine frowned, “But I didn’t know anyone Stephen Herondale.”

“Stephen is good friends with Amatis’s brother, Luke,” Jocelyn added, “We’re all pretty close. And Stephen and Luke had a bunch of other friends, like Valentine and Robert and Michael and Patrick.” 

“What Jocelyn didn’t mention is that she’s head over heels for Valentine.” Amatis nudged her friend as she went pale.

“Perhaps, perhaps. But Valentine is extremely popular among our friend group, almost like a leader, if you will, I’m sure he’d never pick me over Maryse.” Jocelyn stammered. Amatis thought that wasn’t true, but didn’t want to push the issue. Just that morning, Valentine had walked Jocelyn into school. 

“He sounds interesting, this Valentine.” Madeleine commented. Interesting barely scratched the surface of what Amatis knew of Valentine’s personality. He seemed electric and genius, almost as intelligent as Amatis herself.

“Oh, he’s the most interesting person you’ll ever meet, I promise.” A lovesick Jocelyn said. 

Jocelyn spent most of the remainder of their lunch period describing Valentine, explaining the social dynamics of the group, who to avoid, and everything else Madeleine could possibly need to know about the Academy. Amatis listened quietly, piping up occasionally if she had something helpful to add. She thought it must be intimidating for Madeleine to be starting a new school in a new country. 

Madeleine dutifully nodded at everything Jocelyn had to say, taking mental notes. Madeleine gave off a self-confident vibe, like she already found herself and didn’t need anyone else’s approval. She was open and friendly to Amatis and Jocelyn. 

The bell rang sharply, piercing the chatter of a room full of teenage Shadowhunters. The girls said their farewells to each other. Amatis told Madeleine they should meet up again soon. 

As Amatis was exiting the lunchroom, she saw a huddled dark figure in the corner shaking. Her keen instincts told her something was awry. Amatis got closer to the figure, the details coming in sharper the closer she got. She recognized the square jaw and curling dark brown hair as Michael Wayland, an old friend of Stephen’s and a member of their group. She had, however, never seen him with silent tears running down his face. 

“Michael? Are you alright?” She asked, even though, clearly, he wasn’t. Michael turned around to face her, his wet eyelashes clumping together. The sorrowful look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. “Do you want me to go get Robert?” In times of distress, it was practically compulsory for a parabatai to comfort their other half.

To her surprise, Michael’s body straightened up in shock. A look of dismay etched itself into his face, only making his jawline appear more dramatic. It reminded Amatis of the look Lucian sometimes got on his face when he looked at Jocelyn looking at Valentine.

“No, no, please, Amatis, don’t get Robert.” Michael said with a tremor in his voice. Amatis carefully raised a hand and placed it on his shoulder. Amatis had often comforted her younger brother, and had perfected the compassionate-sister touch.

“Can I ask… what happened?” Amatis spoke softly, trying to sound as gentle and welcoming as she could.

Michael whipped his head around nervously. His eyes flickered across the now almost empty room. He heaved a deep sigh. “Swear on the Angel not to tell anyone?”

This was a serious secret if he wanted her to swear on the Angel. Amatis would have to honor it. Of course, she would have honored it anyways

“I swear on the Angel not to repeat any information disclosed to me. You have my word.” Amatis said.

“I’m sure you’re going to think I’m a freak after I tell you this. The Angel knows Robert does. Robert and I, we’ve always been close, parabatai even, but I knew deep down the closeness I felt towards him wasn’t the kind you’re supposed to feel for your parabatai, or any man. I figured, hey, it’s our last year at the Academy, what the heck. I’m so stupid. I told Robert I loved him. And he… he looked at me like I was disgusting,” Michael let out a sob, “I’ve ruined our friendship. He’ll probably never want to speak to me again.”

Amatis sucked in a breath sharply. This was heavy stuff. She had never been privy to a secret not from Stephen or Lucian before. Amatis knew people who loved people of their own gender existed, but had never met one open before. She struggled to find a reason why this made them disgusting, since it was harmless. She knew she had to convince Michael he wasn’t a freak, just different from Robert.

“He’s your parabatai. That means he’s in it for life. Michael, we can’t help the love we feel for others.” Amatis whispered to the distraught boy. 

“But it’s wrong.” Michael breathed. The two were silent for a moment.

“Love is never wrong. It’s only different.” Amatis said finally. Michael looked up at her, his hollow face gaunt. It seemed as if he were looking past her, at something only he could see.

“I should never have told him. Please, never speak of this again. Not even to me. I just want to forget this ever happened.” Michael said. Amatis wanted to shake her head but knew she should respect his feelings. Michael abruptly turned on his heels and walked away, wiping the tears from his face. Amatis was left there, staring after the heartbroken boy.


End file.
